Atonement (sans Kiera Knightly and all that jazz)

Ah, Yom Kippur. The Day of Atonement.

Or the Day Where You Don't Eat And Think You're Going To Lose Your Mind And Then You See Bagels At The End Of The Tunnel And You're Sane Once More.

Whatever you choose to call this holiday, it's still a day to atone and/or repent for what you feel you did wrong. More about that here.

This year, since I'm 23 and most people would consider that to be an adult age, I really thought about atonement and what I'd like to be forgiven for. I did this while driving to work this morning and looking at my phone simultaneously.

I decided right then and there that I had to repent for using my cell phone while driving.

Go ahead, yell at me. I would. It's a terrible habit and it ends now.

Then I thought about what else I'd like God to forgive me for. Here's what I came up with.

• I'd like to be forgiven for losing my temper with the people closest to me. Don't they say that you hurt the people you love the most? I think this falls under that category in one way or another.
• I'd like to be forgiven for my occasional procrastination. It's a lame habit and I start working to stop it now.
• I'd like to be forgiven for not attending services. Like, ever. I'm almost embarrassed to write that here because how can I call myself a Jew if I never practice it where it matters the most? It's a behavior (or a lack thereof) that I cringe at and I make more of an effort now.
• I'd like to be forgiven for being so damn hard on myself. When I step outside of my head (a rare occurrence, but it's been done before), I see how awful a practice it is. How unhealthy and futile it is for me to knock myself down and stay there for awhile. Lame even. So I'm not at the weight I used to be. I exercise and watch what I eat. So I don't have a full time job right now. I am proactive in looking and have motivation to move forward. Leave yourself alone, Ali. It's an abusive way to be and I look on the positive side of things now.
  

What would you like to be forgiven for? *

Now if you'll excuse me, I don't think one more bagel with lox and cream cheese would hurt...

* (What, you're not a Jew? Too bad. Tell me anyway!)

Roll Call!

In my recent discovery of the glory that is Google Reader, I have figured out folders. AKA organization. AKA anal retentive. AKA my previous post.

I'm organizing all of your blogs so that they're easier for me to read. A blog roll if you will. Less scattered and more in one place, yanno what I mean? Which brings me to my question for all of you (and I do mean all of you!)

Pick a category below that you feel best fits your blog and that's where your pretty little self blog is going in my Reader. Wee!

• Design and/or Photography - self explanatory, no?
  
• Let's Talk About Love - couples, romance, sex, dating...you get the idea
  
• Mama Mia! - all you mommy bloggers out there
• Fashionistas - durg
• It's All About Me - as in you, as in it's your blog and you don't really feel you fall into any of the above categories
  

Let me know! Or don't, either way. Because let's face it - I'm still reading all of you no matter what. This is for my own neurotic self.

Heart all of you.

I Got It From My Mama

If it's one thing I'm good at - really, rock star status good at - it's anal.

Oh good GOD, were you all just about to close this post or on the contrary, roaring to read on? I just typed that and kinda gasped/giggled a bit because that sentence is so not my blog vibe.

But, per usual, I digress.

I've always been that weird girl. And by weird I mean anal retentive.

See? Not such a scary post anymore, huh?

Digressing again. Deep breath.

While my sister is considered the mess in the family (as in, strewing her clothes all over her floor so as to infer that a tornado came sweeping through her room and her room only), I've been the neat freak (as in, I'm known to arrange the dresses in my closet by color). There's a dish in the sink? Well, putting it in the dishwasher only requires one extra step. My computer files are the opposite of cluttered, instead organized into folders. Lotsa folders.

Am I freaking you out yet? Because that's not the point of this post. I swear.

My anal retentiveness (oh wow, that is a word?) did not come out of nowhere. Oh no. I have my wonderful and equally anal mother (yep, another anal one...dirty) to thank for this sort of behavior.

Which begs the terrifying question, am I my mother?

(cue the gasps)

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my mother. Adore her actually. Worship the ground she...

I love my mom. She's fantastic and saintlike (she works with 2 year old imps children, need I say more?). But please, raise your hand if you want to be your mother.

(cue the crickets)

I've come to accept that my kick ass organization skills are merely a result of my Type A personality. But Type As need to be careful. Their specific type of crazy can get out of hand. They must be aware of themselves.

Which brings me to my next point. We all have our certain kind of crazy. I learned this a while ago. My dad calls it your "schtick" (we're Jews, what can ya do?). We've all got one (or several); it's just a matter of a) accepting it and b) handling it.

As I've clearly proved, my crazy is anal.

But at least now you know I'm not dirty, not in that way or any other.

Not that I judge anyone who is.

In fact, I'd gladly tidy/clean up after you.

What do you find you get from your parent(s)?

A Bullet to the Blog

I'm sitting here with one seriously creased forehead because I am having blogger's block (which, in my humble opinion, sounds a lot catchier than writer's block).

I'm about to succumb to the cliche as of late and list my current state of affairs.

You've been warned.

• Still no word from Birthright. Fingers still crossed, along with the toes.
• I tried to watch the Emmys last night, then got bored. Maybe it's just me, but Neil Patrick Harris was the most exciting part of the night. And all that magic happened in the first 10 minutes.
• I started my new little job today (just part time, nothing to jump up and down and/or scream like a banshee about) and it went pretty well. Work in any way, shape or form is good for me right now.
• There's a big fat hole in my Sundays now because True Blood isn't back for another 9 months. A child can and will be born in that amount of time. It's that long and that painful.
• And speaking of babies, Nicole Richie named her son Sparrow. Now, last time I checked, the below photo was a sparrow.

Is it a bird? Or a baby? Baby bird is not an acceptable answer.

• I'm currently reading Firefly Lane and it's very good.
• I'm still madly in love with Matthew Morrison. I won't be threatened if you are too.
  

• Gingerbread coffee might just be the best thing since sliced bread (everyone says sliced bread, but what I really want to say is sushi).
• If you've made it this far without rolling your eyes, I'm giving you an award (which I haven't created yet, but just might soon).

LaceyInTheSky

This post is so long overdue, and for that, I apologize to my lovely Lacey girl!

Ms. Lacey is one of my favorite blog ladies, and she hosted a giveaway in honor of her birthday way back when. I know, I know...she's so generous that she had a giveaway on the day she was supposed to get presents? She's just that cool.

I think you see where this is going.

I won her giveaway! Beyond excited was I.

Here's what came for me in the mail and made my day year.


And here's a breakdown of all that came in that cute little owl makeup case.

Delicious Victoria's Secret bath bar - yum.

Loofah! How'd she know green was one of my favorite colors? Amazing.

Probably the cutest tissues I've ever seen.

Peace necklace = obsessed

The best part: the Lucky mag didn't come, so she gave me money to buy one! I now consider her my sugar mama of sorts.

So Lacey, thank you so much. I'm in love with my gift, and I'm in love with you!

And on a different note, I'm guest posting over at Tracy's blog, Then I got to thinking.... Stop on over if you want!

L'shana Tova

So last night began the Jewish New Year, also known as Rosh Hashana. Now, we are by no means religious people, my family and I. We're what you'd call reformed Jews. You know, religious in our own right but no temple every week (or month or year for that matter), no Shabbat every Friday, etc. However, we love our holidays and take this time to get the ones we love together and eat until we just can't eat no more.

So that's what we did last night.

The best part about our holiday last night (that Liza reminded me of) was that our family - the 4 of us - were the only Jews there!

We had my friend Skyler's parents, sister and brother-in-law but no Skyler as he just got married and is back at school with his wife, Sarah.

We also had Liza's friend Will and our friend Lissette.

It was a good time. I'm kind of an idiot and didn't take any people pictures, just food ones. So I'm afraid you'll have to just drool instead of smile and think, 'oh look at all those happy faces, how cute!' There will be none of that here. My bad.

But lucky for you all, you get to hear about my mom's amazing Jew food skills. Drum roll please...

Apples and honey
(we eat apples dipped in honey to signify what we all hope to be a sweet upcoming new year)

Corn Souffle
(my personal favorite, especially because my mom makes it "low fat" but you really can't taste it so it really doesn't matter and...well, you get the idea)

Kugel
(egg noodles, raisins, all that good stuff...also "low fat" but it really doesn't matter and you know the rest)

Chicken with mushrooms and artichokes
(this was a new dish we tried out in lieu of chicken with cranberries...so good, especially because I'm eating meat once again and actually had some!)

Carrots and potatoes
(now I know this sounds simple but you haven't had my mom's Rosh Hashana carrots and potatoes so there's an uneven playing field here, you see?)

Brisket
(I'm not sure what else to say here...it's that good and the recipe is that old to ensure that it's just that good...people live for my mom's brisket so you're just gonna have to trust me on this one)


Challah
You know, that incredible bread us Jews eat on Shabbat (and whenever else we get a chance, really). Here's a lame-o shot from the web, but trust me when I say it all really looks the same but sometimes comes in different shapes.

After we burped and were ready for dessert (I keed, sort of), we laid out the cheesecake, chocolate cream pie and apple cake (again with the apple, I know). Yum.

So you see, Jews know how to eat. Will jokingly (but kinda seriously) said he was ready to convert while eating all this food, then had second thoughts after hearing that we fast for another holiday.

Moral of this story: Jew food is the best food.

The real moral of this story that's not really a moral as much as it is an exclamation: L'shana Tova (Happy New Year)!

A Slightly ADD Post

Thank you all so much for your comments/advice re: Google Reader! I think I'm stickin' with it, and here are 2 reasons why:

1. You can make folders and such. I love my folders. Anal retentive, party of Ali!
   
2. When you finish reading a post, the title goes from bold to normal font. A very good way to tell the difference between read posts and unread posts!
   

Any other tips that I think are worth sharing, I most definitely will! A little GR tips and tricks manual, if you will...Ali style.

For those that are interested, I'm featured on Sweetie Pie Pumpkin Noodle's blog today, sharing some (of my thousands of millions of) book picks for her Blogger Book Fair series! This was fun. I'm a huge book nerd worm. Thinking of my faves to put on there got me thinking about maybe doing an elaborated post on my all time favorite books. Stay tuned!

On another note, I finally finished The Time Traveler's Wife. Oh boy, this will definitely be going on my elaborated list. What a novel. I'm joining the masses when I say that it's truly a gem. All throughout the book, I kept turning it over and looking at the author, wondering how the hell she wrote this book. Read it and I have a feeling you'll wonder the same thing. It's...pretty close to perfect.

Speaking of close to perfect, how about this guy?


I know, right? He's from this show.


You, uh, might have heard of it. It's called Glee and it's fantastic.

For those who haven't hopped on this ridiculous/hilarious/hip/heartwarming little bandwagon, think the humor of Popular (remember that one?) - but better - plus Broadway-esque talent. There really is no show like it on television right now. It's great. And it's on tonight! If you're quasi-lame like me, watch it and let me know what you think.

But I digress. Well, kinda.

This guy - also known as Matthew Morrison - is future husband #543. See why here.

Anywho, who's heard of Birthright? Anyone? No? Okay, well.

Birthright is a free trip to Israel.

No, seriously. Anyone between the ages of 18-26 that has never been to Israel and has Jewish blood running through their veins can apply to go on a 10 day trip to Israel, completely free. Airfaire, hotels, meals...it's all covered. The thought here is that all Jews should be able to see their homeland, where they came from.

You can learn more about Birthright here.

Liza and I applied to go this past summer, but a rumor got started about Birthright being thiiis close to losing money, so everyone and their grandmother once removed's housekeeper applied and we didn't get in. It was sad. Flags were at half mast, ribbons were worn, you get the idea.

Not really.

So now, these sisters are on a mission to go! We applied last week to go this winter/fall, so please...do keep your fingers and toes crossed for us?

We wanna float in that Dead Sea together, damnit!

Okay, stepping off my soapbox.

Anyway, look out...amazing book post coming soon!

As in, the books I'm posting about are amazing. I don't mean that this post will be amazing. But it might. I mean, I've been known to craft some kick ass posts every now and then and -

You know what I meant.

Help Wanted: Google Reader

So.

I've always been a Blogger reader.

As in, I log into Blogger, scroll down to the latest post I read, and read from the top up until I'm all caught up.

This often gets frustrating, as there always seems to be a post I haven't read and I therefore never really feel up-to-date.

Oh well.

Then I hear about Google Reader, and I begin to question my choice in reader.

So.

Now I'm on this Google Reader and am feeling a little like this.


I know, I know.

Question to self from hypothetical followers: But Ali, it's just a reader. What's there to be confused about?

Answer to my own question: I don't know! It just looks all wordy and intimidating and stuff.

See where I'm going with this?

I need help from you Google Reader veterans. Advice, tips, some good old Ali-you're-an-idiot remarks, anything.

Advanced hugs and thank you's.

Immaturity At Its Finest

I'm sorry, but I just have to say something that no one's said yet.

Sarcasm. Lotsa sarcasm.

WTF, Kanye?!

Seriously. I have to say it. Just so everyone knows how I feel. And I feel that I can't stand the bastard. I'm sorry, Mr. Self-Righteous Jackass. You may be good at your craft, but that doesn't mean you're allowed to take someone (not to mention a 19 year old)'s moment away.

Sorry Kanye, wrong number. GO HOME, you immature Taylor hater.

(deep breath)

Hi everyone, happy Monday! Hope you all had great weekends.

Edit: I know the pictures didn't seem to be working and now I lost said email (where they came from). Bummer, I know. However, I'm sure it won't be long before I receive another classless email like that again. And rest assured, it will be shared.

A Labor Day Story

Labor Day, 2009 (right before my story below occurred)

I'm sitting here in Coffee Bean with my pumpkin iced blended (holy heaven), job hunting and gradually becoming more and more frustrated.

I'm not sure if any of you have heard, but it's a bad time out there folks.

Sarcasm very much intended. We all know how bad the job market (and the world as a whole) is right now.

I don't have a whole lot to say, so I'll just leave you all with a little anecdote that happened to me on Labor Day.

I'm at a friend's place for a BBQ and I meet a bunch of people, one of them being a guy looking for "a nice Jewish girl." Lucky me that I was the first girl he saw. After drinking his weight in beer, he proceeds to get wasted and follow me around, asking when and what we're going to do on our first date.

Guess I missed the memo that we were going out.

I walk to my car to drive home, Jewish-loving drunk guy hot on my heels since I didn't give him an answer. But I started to consider just doing one dinner with him. I mean, why not?

He tells me to stop walking for a second, then proceeds to pee on the street.

Okay, then again...maybe no date is the best idea.

Happy weekend!

9/11/01

Ugh, history class. Good thing our teacher was so sweet and somewhat entertaining or else I would've poked my eyes out with my mechanical pencil (mechanical pencils so beat regular ones, don't you think?).

Another teacher walks in, asking to talk to ours for a second. They both walk out. We're all confused but don't think anything of it. Less time spent learning in class? Well, sure!

Our teacher returns, tears in her eyes. Now we're confused and a bit concerned.

She tells us that she is unable to divulge any information but that she is okay and so is her daughter.

Um, okay...

Moments later, our teacher is given the go ahead from another faculty member.

There's been an attack, she says. In New York City. Her daughter works near the area, but she's not hurt. She's trying to help the ones who were.

What?

It's not long before we're all piling into the auditorium, where a television is set up and the news is being broadcast.

2 towers hit. Not just any 2 towers, but the World Trade Center.

I'm sorry, something must be wrong. This simply cannot be. Who would do that? Why would anyone do that?

People are jumping. People are screaming. Mass chaos, only a half hour drive from where we're sitting at that very moment.

Phone calls are being made, tears are being shed, panic is everywhere.

A girl a grade above us is trying to contact her father who works in the towers. She cannot get a hold of him. No one can.

And no one ever will, since he'll never be found to this day.

Everyone has their own story. This is mine.

9/11.
We will never forget.

A Love Letter

Dear Inglourious Basterds,

I have a few things I'd like to say to you, so let's get right to it.

You are one sick, tragic and incredible movie.

I'm not going to spoil you or anything. This is simply a love letter to you and to your maker, that crazy Mr. Tarantino.

Oh, and Brad Pitt. And all the other amazing actors in your film as well.


You see, I was a little apprehensive about seeing you. I'd heard gross things were happening and I started you with my eyes half closed. But as you progressed, I simply couldn't take my eyes off the screen. I was captivated. Oh, was I captivated.

And scared.
And sad.
And entertained.
But mostly scared and sad.

Because you, Inglourious Basterds, are one unique son of a bitch. You are a fictional true story. Yes, you read that right. You take a completely true event - an event full of hatred and monstrosity - and turn it into what should have happened. What never did, but what should've.

But what never did.

Now don't get me wrong, I am no fan of violence. But you and I both know that millions of innocent lives were taken and the monsters, well they just laughed and smiled.


I'm left speechless still after watching you, and I guess I'm writing to say thank you.

Thank you for shedding light.
Thank you for being absolutely gut-wrenching.
Thank you for being real. And fictitious.
Thank you for being beautiful.
Thank you.

All my love and admiration,
Ali

Stars Hollow

Holy Gilmore Girls, Batman!


This show has officially taken over any remnant of a life I had.

It all started with a conversation.

Me: Ugh, you know what show I miss? Gilmore Girls.

Friend: I have 5 seasons on DVD. Wanna borrow 'em?

Me: Um, yes please?!

And thus it began. Disc after disc of witty banter, creepy yet endearing background music (where the only syllable you need to know is "la") and Stars Hollow.

Oooh, Stars Hollow.

I mean, seriously? It's a perfect town. Allow me Wikipedia to explain:

"Stars Hollow is a fictional town in Connecticut on the show Gilmore Girls. It is depicted as a close-knit small town with many quirky characters, located roughly thirty minutes from Hartford. It is loosely based on the real city of Washington Depot, but filming of the pilot was done in Historic Main Street Unionville in Unionville, Ontario (Canada)."

Now, I know for a fact that the shooting location was later moved to Los Angeles because my dad somehow managed to get me, Liza and Drew in when my family and I first moved to California. I wish I knew where those pictures were, because we saw it all: the town square, Luke's, Patty's dance hall, the whole shebang.

I think many of us dream of eventually living in a small town where everybody knows your name (go ahead, cue the Cheers theme song). You know, where you have that one great place to eat, everyone looks out for each other and town meetings actually do exist.

This whole I-wish-I-lived-in-Stars-Hollow-or-a-place-a-whole-lot-like-it has sort of become a thing of mine now. As in, I recently searched places like Stars Hollow and it seems like Connecticut really is the place to be for this (and to think, I lived there for a hot minute when I was little!). Here's what I found.

Washington, Connecticut. Now this place is supposedly what the show's town was based off of.

Look - a town hall!

According to Washington's website, "Yankee tradition is alive and well in Washington. Local residents elect a first selectman and a Board of Selectmen every two years, who preside over a town meeting form of government.

The town meeting appoints residents and landowners as the legislative body of the town; that body approves the annual budget, elects school board members and votes on new town ordinances, changes to existing town properties and bond authorizations, among other things."

Who loves this? Ali loves this.

Another town I came across was Fairfield, also in Connecticut. I'll let the pictures do the explaning.

Fairfield town square

Stars Hollow town square

Fairfield gazebo

Stars Hollow gazebo

A dock, on a lake...kinda like...

...this one.

Oh, and they too have town meetings. And a few B&Bs. Done and done.

3 Liberty Green B&B in Clinton, CT

The Riverwood Inn B&B in Deep River, CT

The Horse Tale Farm B&B in Falls Village, CT

Lord have mercy, I need a Stars Hollow.

Okay, onto the last episode. Of disc 3. Of season 3. Of...you guessed it: Gilmore Girls.

Who's with me?

Back Again

{source}

I know I seem to say this every time I miss a few days in the blog world, but this time, I mean it.

I've been sitting in Coffee Bean for an hour and a half, and am not nearly as caught up with your blogs as I'd like to be. Tough life, I know. Ha.

Anyway, the reason for my absence this past week? Work. Work, work and more work. However, I'm no longer working that same job so I'll have some more time to blog (thank the sweet heavens above...blogging keeps me sane and I'm reminded of this when I'm, well...not sane).

Life's been tougher than normal lately. And since I wouldn't generally describe my life as tough at all, this is clearly a bit of a rocky patch. But like all rocky patches of rocky patches past, it will...pass.

Am I articulate or what tonight?

I'll have a more interesting update soon, but I just had to explain myself.

Miss you all!

A lot.

It's kind of ridiculous.

Okay, back to playing catch up. Hope you're all having a lovely Labor Day eve!